The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 5

by Bella Forrest

  “Go to safety!” he told her.

  She chirped, brushing her beak across his hand, before rising back up into the air.

  Alex was close to where Catherine had been standing, but it seemed the wolverine hadn’t quite gotten the better of Catherine de Marchmont. She was slowly rising, though the Head had moved a fair way from her, presumably to avoid the same fate at the jaws of a golden wolverine. Alex ran over to her before she could fully get up, and pressed his hands to the sides of her head, manipulating her thoughts into believing the Head was evil. Seeing the golden band still gleaming on her wrist, he reached down to break it, forcing his anti-magic into the circlet and shattering it from the inside out. Almost as soon as he had done it, he regretted it, remembering the consequences of the released curse. She convulsed for a moment, before lying still once more. As much as he wished he’d waited, he knew she’d have a better chance of survival if he could get Helena to deal with the inner turmoil of the curse later.

  A shadow passed across him. Glancing up, he saw that Storm hadn’t quite heeded his warning, as the vast Thunderbird crashed down upon the figure of the Head, grasping at him with her fierce talons. Virgil tried to fight back, but she was aggressive, battering him with her sharp claws, kicking out at him with a vengeful fury, and pecking at him viciously with her spiked beak. No matter how hard the Head tried to retaliate, Storm was everywhere at once, snapping and biting at him, keeping him distracted.

  Looking around, Alex did a quick count. With Jun and Catherine down, the right-hand band of Spellshadow defectors mostly frozen or hiding, and the left-hand band still trying to fend off the attacks of a wolverine and a bear, Alex saw that an advantage was slowly appearing. The essence-creatures wouldn’t last forever, but they were doing a good job of keeping the opposition at bay.

  Alex beckoned to his friends. They came running, with the Stillwater students and the supporting Spellshadow students following suit. All of them formed an arc around the place where Virgil and the third new professor stood. She was not somebody Alex recognized, but she already looked battle hardened, with curly red hair and a stern face. Nor was she willing to go down without a vicious fight, as she immediately set to work, firing blockades at the oncoming group.

  Alex sent a blockade of his own toward her, knocking her backwards into a huge cluster of ivy that clung to the wall of Spellshadow. She sat there for a moment, apparently stunned, unable to get up, as the plant sapped the energy from her. There was so much of it, and it was all around her—there was no escaping so much. It was something of a relief, however, knowing that she would be okay once she was removed from the ivy. At least they could save her, Alex thought, trying very hard not to look at the lifeless form of Jun Asano.

  Finally, it had come down to just the Head. Storm was still doing an exceptional job of keeping him distracted, blasting him every so often with a fierce bolt of ice, but he wasn’t backing down.

  “Don’t kill him!” Alex warned. The fighters around him nodded. He knew that was the worst thing that could happen, right now, if someone were to get a little over-eager and end the Head’s life, just before the spell could be done.

  Pushing the worries from his mind, Alex stepped up, weaving threads of black and silver in the air. He forged them into a whirling ball of raw energy and sent it hurtling toward Virgil, only for it to smack into the Head with relatively little effect. It seemed like it caused more of a nuisance than an injury. With a twist of frustration, Alex remembered why. He had almost forgotten that his anti-magical powers were not nearly as effective on Virgil as they were on others.

  Ellabell and Helena took the lead. Combining their forces, they created a huge orb of power, the bronze crackle of Helena’s exceptional force bristling in the center. With a formidable push, they sent the orb toward the Head. It him it square on, and though the Head wasn’t very susceptible to the power of mages either, it had some of the desired effect. The skeletal man sagged, clutching his stomach, as a flurry of snowflakes fell around him. Aamir and Jari did the same. Pair after pair approached, sending an orb of fierce light toward the struggling Head, but still he did not fall.

  Alex clenched his fists, wondering what he could do to shift the balance in their favor. A flash of shadow cut across the scene, and Elias hit the Head square in the jaw, only aggravating the skeletal man further. It gave Alex an idea. Closing his eyes, he searched deep inside himself, looking for the piece of torn-off soul he had unwittingly taken from Elias. Eventually he found the strange pulse of something that did not belong to him. Drawing the power of it into his hands, he allowed it to flow into the swirling fabric of his own energy. Opening his eyes, he saw that a vast black mass was twisting and turning in front of him. It looked almost liquid and seemed to have a life of its own, but Alex could sense the throb of power emanating from within.

  Steeling himself, he let it flow toward Virgil. It swamped the Head, smothering him like oil, slithering beneath his skin, turning the blue veins black. The Head doubled over in pain, letting out a blood-curdling cry as he crumpled into a heap on the ground, already half frozen to death by the impact of Storm’s relentless ice beams. Pain seared through Alex too, and he struggled to ignore it—there was too much at stake.

  Alex raced toward the slumped, skeletal figure and hauled him up. Aamir ran up to help, each boy taking an arm across their shoulders as they dragged the weakened Virgil across the lawn, up the steps, and into the school. The hallways were empty, save for the few figures who were still recovering from the effects of Demeter’s influence, giving them an easy route. Passing Billy Foer, Alex saw that the boy was still giggling uncontrollably on the floor. He hoped he hadn’t done any irreversible damage, but there would be time to see about those things later.

  “We need to take him to the room with the manacles,” Alex explained.

  Aamir nodded. “I thought as much,” he said, with a hint of remorse. It wasn’t somewhere that held particularly good memories for the older boy.

  With Virgil still somewhere between asleep and awake, they reached the door to the chamber. The metallic scent of fear and blood seemed all the more potent. Pushing the door open, they hauled Virgil inside, and quickly clamped the manacles around his skeletal wrists. The Head offered no resistance, still suffering the effects of whatever Alex had done to him, but it was strange to see the thin, bony man dangling from the chains, looking so vulnerable.

  Alex stepped back. It was a fitting tribute, he thought, considering all the others that Virgil had strung up here, with the sole purpose of stealing their lives.

  “Could you leave us alone?” Alex asked, turning to Aamir.

  Aamir frowned, looking dubious. “I’m not sure that is such a good idea, Alex. You don’t know how useful these chains will be against him when he wakes up.”

  “Please… I need to do this alone,” Alex insisted.

  “Alex—”

  “Aamir, please do this. Please, leave us be,” Alex repeated, more determined than ever. “Tend to the wounded, fix those who have been brainwashed. Your help is needed out there, not here.”

  For a moment, it looked like Aamir was going to stay, regardless of what Alex said, but, eventually, he relented, moving toward the door of the chamber.

  “You must come and get us the moment you even think about doing the counter-spell. If you do not swear that to me, I will not leave,” Aamir said firmly.

  Alex smiled. “I promise.”

  With a reluctant sigh, Aamir departed, leaving Alex alone with the man who had caused so much suffering.

  Chapter 34

  “This has been a long time coming,” a voice whispered, the shadows by the entrance to the chamber shifting as Elias emerged.

  The Head hung limply from the dangling manacles, still knocked out by the blast that had weakened him. Alex watched him closely, paying little attention to the shadow-man as he sauntered up to the skeletal figure. The Head’s hood had fallen away, revealing the pale skin and sunken cheeks Alex recogniz
ed. It was strange to see him so vulnerable, but there was a triumph in their achievement. They had done what they had intended to do, and now redemption wasn’t far off. Alex inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the Book of Jupiter in the satchel slung across his body.

  “He doesn’t look so powerful now, does he?” Elias mused, lifting a wispy finger to the Head’s face.

  The contact, however gentle, made Virgil stir.

  “He’s just a man,” Alex replied, more to himself than anyone else. It was true—Virgil was just a mortal person, with a history that had formed him into the being that dangled before them. In a different life, the Head might have been different. Had he been cherished, the way a son ought to have been, perhaps he would have taken an alternate path.

  Elias touched the Head’s face again, causing him to stir once more. A low groan emitted from Virgil’s mouth, his strange eyes blinking slowly open, as if he had just woken from a nightmare. His head snapped up, those same eyes going wide as Virgil took in his surroundings, looking up to see the restraints that held him firmly in place. There was panic on the ghoulish man’s face, but Alex felt little remorse. No amount of sympathy for Virgil’s past could wipe the slate clean of the things he had done, and it was time for him to pay for those gross misdemeanors.

  “Release me,” the Head croaked.

  It was Elias who spoke first. “You will never be free again,” he hissed.

  Alex glanced at the shadow-man, feeling the hatred radiating from the wispy creature. The ferocity of his loathing was frightening to behold, especially as Alex could now feel it coursing through his own body—an unexpected byproduct of their shared energy.

  “Release me this instant!” Virgil demanded, pulling against his restraints. The chains rattled, but there was no escape for the pale figure. It was the Head’s own security measures that now held him in place. Nobody, Spellbreaker, mage or hybrid, could break free of the sapping energy of the manacles.

  “I want you to beg for your life,” Elias purred. “I want you to plead for it, the way I once pleaded for mine. I shall show you the same mercy you showed me.”

  The Head sneered. “You will never see me beg, Elias. You flaunted your power, and you suffered for your pride. I will admit… I made an error in judgment, listening to Derhin, but you would not cooperate. I asked you to volunteer and you wouldn’t. When I told you of my own suffering, you laughed in my face—or have you forgotten?”

  “I have forgotten nothing, Virgil,” Elias replied. “I wasn’t responsible for what Julius made you do, but you only sought to weasel your way out of it. You saw me, saw what I could do, and thought you’d take it for yourself. You were jealous and idiotic, but you’ll find it’s me who gets the last laugh.”

  Virgil gave a low, menacing chuckle. “You are mistaken. I will not beg, and you will not succeed in taking whatever it is you think you can draw from me. You are weak, both of you.”

  Alex frowned. There was a defiance in the skeletal creature that Alex hadn’t quite expected. Having seen him cowed in front of Alypia, Alex had forgotten that the Head could actually be quite intimidating when he wanted to be, especially at such close quarters. There was resentment in him too, as if Virgil blamed Elias and Alex for his own state of affairs, and the suffering he had undergone.

  “Even now, you’re blaming someone else for your failings,” Elias taunted, flashing his teeth in a wry smile.

  “We’re not here to take your essence,” Alex said, keeping his voice strong. “An apology wouldn’t save you now, even if you wanted to make amends for all the horrible things you’ve done.”

  “I did what I had to,” Virgil remarked, showing no hint of remorse for the acts that had brought him here. “You think you have some sort of power over me, but no matter what you do to me, you will get your comeuppance. The chaos you have caused will not go unpunished. Once Julius hears of this, he will kill you in the most horrible manner you can imagine,” he spat, glowering in Alex’s direction.

  Alex smiled. “With your help, whether you like it or not, we are going to put a stop to the Great Evil,” he said quietly, letting the words sink in.

  To his surprise, the Head showed little fear. “You’re bluffing, Alex Webber,” he sneered. “The king of this nation could not make me do the act that would stop the Great Evil—what makes you think you can?”

  “I know things Julius didn’t,” said Alex simply. “I am exactly the person who can make you do it. Let’s not forget, you and I share a common ancestor,” he added, gauging the Head’s reaction.

  Virgil looked puzzled. “You and I share only our cursed power.”

  Alex shook his head. “Not just that,” he said, and it felt so good to gloat. It didn’t seem the Head knew about his ancestry at all. Perhaps Julius and Venus had kept it from him all these years, in fear of how he might react, or how others might react to such a revelation, if the secret was more widely known. It wouldn’t be right to have a descendant of Leander Wyvern in such close association with the royal elite. “Have you heard of Leander Wyvern?” he asked.

  “Rebel scum,” Virgil spat.

  “Not a very nice thing to say about your father,” Alex remarked. “Your mother loved him, and their love created something impossible… you. My ancestor was also his child. You and I are blood, and no amount of defiance can change that.”

  A look of pure rage flashed across Virgil’s face. “LIAR!”

  “Afraid not, Virgil,” Elias purred. “The boy speaks the truth. You were the product of a love so rare, it defied the laws of nature.”

  “I’m going to need you to tell me where the Spellshadow pit room is,” Alex said, relishing in the look of confusion that played across the Head’s ghoulish features.

  A menacing smile stretched Virgil’s lips. “‘Pit room?’ I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t play dumb, Virgil. You know precisely where it is,” Elias said.

  “Even if I did, I would never tell you,” Virgil hissed. “You are liars… I will never help you. You think a shared ‘bond’ will change my mind? After all this time, you think I care where I came from? Even if you were telling the truth, it wouldn’t matter. I know where my loyalties lie, and no tainted blood can alter that. I will never breathe a word of what you want to know,” he added, his voice dripping with hatred.

  Alex smiled. “You don’t have to.”

  Slowly, Alex approached the dangling figure, and though the Head fought against his restraints, there was nowhere to run. He could not stop what Alex was about to do, and for the first time, Alex saw a glimpse of something close to fear in the Head’s eyes. Reaching out his hands, Alex pressed his palms tightly against the struggling figure’s skull, keeping his head still as Virgil thrashed. Focusing intently, Alex weaved strands of white light into the Head’s mind. All the while, the skeletal man fought back, but there was nothing he could do to prevent the seeking strands of Alex’s powers.

  Memories flooded Alex’s mind as he sifted through Virgil’s thoughts. He saw the Head standing in the sunshine with Finder, discussing the events that had brought them to that point. It was strange for Alex to see the discussion from a different perspective, looking at things through Virgil’s eyes, and their current symbiosis was the most unsettled Alex had felt in using his skillset. As their conversation came to a close, Alex knew Virgil had only been trying to do what was best, and what Julius expected of him, but it made no difference. Like anyone else in the world, he’d had a choice, and he’d followed the path of evil.

  There were images of Virgil as a younger man, before the peculiar living decay had set in, giving him his current skeletal appearance. Flashes of Alypia’s cruelty peppered the scenes. She had been a cold-hearted sibling, taunting and hurting him at every opportunity, forever getting him into trouble with a step-father who loathed him. Seeing the familiar face of Julius screaming in the face of the younger Virgil, a hand raised to strike, Alex almost recoiled, feeling the ripple of intense fear that
Virgil had felt now coursing through his veins.

  Moving quickly on, he came to the vision he was looking for. Virgil was walking through the hallways of Spellshadow, carrying a large bag of clinking bottles with him, though there wasn’t quite so much gray ivy littering the place. He seemed to be heading for the secret corridors of his private quarters. Reaching the library where Ellabell had been left screaming after Elias’s attack, Virgil stopped, opening the door. Casting a glance back over his shoulder, he stepped into the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

  It looked exactly the same as it had the last time Alex had entered the library, but Virgil didn’t seem interested in the rare and antique books. He moved on past the stacks, heading for a structure at the back of the room. It was a vast statue, tucked away behind a large bookshelf. When he pulled down on a splayed-out book carved from marble, a doorway appeared in the base of the statue. It was narrow, the Head having to turn sideways to slip through, but his thin frame made it easy.

  Beyond, there was a staircase, leading down into the underground depths of the school. Alex watched through Virgil’s eyes as he descended hurriedly, his feet barely making a sound on the stone steps. At the bottom of the staircase was a hallway, hewn from the rock, much like the one Alex had witnessed at Kingstone, and at the end of the hallway stood a very familiar door. It was tall and sturdy-looking, with two great iron rings on either side.

  Virgil approached it, opening up one of the doors. Alex already knew what he was going to see when he followed the vision through, but the sight was no less impressive for his anticipation. A huge pit yawned at the center of the cavernous room, a golden bird perched above it, flapping its wings wildly, its screeches piercing the stale air. It seemed Virgil had arrived just in time with his bottles of essence—the Great Evil was ravenous.